My wedding day three weeks ago and I am sitting with my fiancé in the church watching our vicar Liz talk about chocolate and forest gump (it made sense I swear). We can see all of our friends and family from our seat but I can’t keep my eyes off my parents.You see I know something that not many others there knew; that soon after our wedding was over, their marriage was about to end. As one marriage was beginning another was taking it’s last few gasps of air.
In fairness I wasn’t supposed to know any of this. Because it seems everyone is scared of stressing out the bride too much before a wedding and no one wanted to tell me. Luckily I have a wonderful younger sister who got pissed on my henweekend and told me the lot! Everything, every last nasty little detail. We sat up until 5.30am crying with each other, talking like we hadn’t in years and saying things we were both too scared to say before.
I’ll be honest and say that after the initial shock if it and after the tears had dried, I was a little bit excited. Fucking weird reaction I’m guessing, but you see I had been waiting for this for about the last 30ish years.
Not that I really want them to split up as such, it’s just that after 30+ years if them being on the verge of it, it’s finally happening. After all the blazing rows, deathly silences, passive aggressiveness and general feeling of foreboding my hunch that they weren’t destined for happily ever after was coming true. I almost want to shout ‘I told you so’ but I never told anyone this, so who would care.
I never imagined that they would still be together when I was a teen, but they were (except for a few short months when I was 14). Again I thought they’d have gone their seperate ways long before I moved out in my twenties. Even when they became grandparents when I hit my thirties I couldn’t imagine them together forever.
They are too different in too many ways I guess. And weirdly even as a small kid I could see it. When they would row thinking I couldn’t hear I’d think ‘ oh for gods sake just leave each other and try to be happy apart’. I think I was about 6 when I first thought that.
So now three weeks on from my big day, that other big day has happened. Dad has asked mum for a divorce and to move out. I haven’t spoken to my mum yet, because well I’m fucked if I know what to say.
I have every emotion buzzing round my head; anger at them both, relief because it’s finally happening, anxiety over what will happen to mum, worry for them both, fear that it will send my mum on a downward spiral, dread that mum will want something from me I can’t give her and excitement for my dad as he gets to start anew.
God my head is all over the place. All I can think is that it’s gonna get a whole lot worse before it gets better. At least I have that wonderful man I married by my side.